My rendering of Alexey Mozgovoy's poem No. 26

If you love, then care too!

The tracks are split,

Running somewhere apart,

More distant with each step,
Yet closer to the frosty chill.

A white shroud keeps on falling

On the lone and fading trace.

Blizzard, the she-wolf, comes and yaps,

And the silhouette passes out of sight.

Two winters and two roads
Under two half-broken wings
Made two hearts as one beat
And comply with Cupid’s will.

Oh, Cupid, my curly boy,
You are a hoodlum and a rogue,
A bolshie pimp who trades with fates,
Even though you look so small!

You’d better save your shots
And take a good long walk!

For your aim is often off—

Vainly you tease and joke!

Yet if you keep tying

Pairs in one lacing fate,

You need to care at least
That they not be lonely, cold.

Don’t let the bitter storm
Ice up their flames
Or their love’s truth and faith,

Which, in one, life ties and spans.

Or:

Don’t let the bitter storm
Ice up their flames
Or lose love’s truth and faith

Like one river’s two winter banks.

 

PS: The Russian "beregi" (take care, protect, but also "take care" as good-bye) in the title and at the end of the poem is tied to other Russsian word, which sounds almost the same--"berega"--shores, banks, edge; thus, here it is evoking the notion of protecting (and defining) walls, which also keep life (love) inside together, while, in the case of the river, not stagnant, but continuously flowing (and changing). The word "bereg" (shore) is connected to the German Berg (high place, mountain, hill) and the English burgh and borough from the Proto-Germanic burgs, "hill fort, fortress, citadel," from the Indo-European root bhergh- "high," with derivatives referring to forts, protection (Slavic odbrana/obrana--defense) and brati, to carry, to take (care). In Russian, beremennaya is "pregnant." 

Коль влюбил... так береги

Разошлись пути-дорожки,
Разбежались кто куда.
Отдаляясь понемножку,
Ближе к стуже, холодам. 

Белым саваном укроет, 
Одинокий, слабый след.
Вьюга, как волчица взвоет,
Спрячет тёмный силуэт. 

Две зимы, на две дороги, 
Два надломленных крыла.
Принесла в сердца тревогу, 
Купидонова стрела... 

Ах ты, баловень кудрявый,
Безобразник и прохвост!
Сводник ты судеб, упрямый,
Даром то, что мал твой рост. 

Поберёг бы свои стрелы,
Полно братец, отдохни.
Ты стрелок ведь не умелый,
Понапрасну, не шали. 

А коль сводишь ты дорожки,
В одну линию судьбы.
Береги их хоть немножко,
От разлучницы-зимы. 

Не давай холодной вьюге,
Заморозить огоньки,
Разуверится друг в друге.
Как два берега реки.